


A season of giving

by summerof16



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU where Covid19 doesnt exist, Also there's a mild anxiety spiral at some point so beware if that's a thing that triggers you, Angst, Betting, Christmas Shopping, Darcy was ill, Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, It's unsurprising that everyone had a different idea about how a proposal would go down, Jane is the best as always, Loki and Sif are fighting, Loki and Sif are idiots, Loki and Sif are in love, Sif/beating-up-arcade games interactions, Slight mentions of grounding techniques, Thor's a good big brother, christmas markets, i love them really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28214634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerof16/pseuds/summerof16
Summary: Loki and Sif go to a Christmas market hoping to get some shopping done and have a good time (as a happy couple ought to!).Unsurprisingly, things don't go according to plan...
Relationships: Jane Foster/Thor, Loki/Sif, Loki/Sif (Marvel)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 24
Collections: Mischief and Mistletoe 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marvelsamwilson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvelsamwilson/gifts).



> Hello hello and welcome during this festive season of mischief and mistletoe! I hope you enjoy your time at the Christmas market, and that these two idiots behave themselves as well as they can.
> 
> If you stick around to the end, please drop a comment! Even a little emoji is appreciated in this house!

“Loki,” Sif warned, eyeing him warily. To a casual onlooker, they might have simply seemed like a pair of people wiping fresh snow off the windshield of a posh car on a cold, December afternoon, but Sif knew very well that Loki’s innocuous posture hid something more. He had swept lightly, forming a very neat mound of snow on the hood of the car. His hand rested on top, lying in wait to dig up a fist full.

She would not fall for that again.

“Loki, I swear, if you throw a snowball at me, I will stuff so much snow down your pants that you will get frostbite.” She narrowed her eyes at him, watching him shift his weight, as a sheet of snow clung to the front of his black felt coat. A speculative glimmer snuck into his eyes and his lips quirked, teeth gleaming like a feral animal waiting to pounce. She knew that look.

He thought he was playing with his prey.

He challenged her with the tilt his head, glancing back and forth between the pile of snow and Sif’s own battle-ready posture. Her red gloved hand waited above the car roof, where the snow lay thickest. With a quick swipe of her arm, she could most certainly turn him into a white-haired old man, and he wouldn’t put it past her.

His grin broadened.

“Promises promises…”

She huffed.

They stared each other down, neither moving. Their fingers twitched, like cowboys itching to draw their guns, but restrained themselves. Impossibly, Sif narrowed her eyes even further, and several moments passed. He nodded ever so slightly, and in near-perfect synchrony, they moved their hands away in mutual surrender. Not breaking eye-contact, they shifted towards the car doors, Loki on the driver’s side and Sif on the other, and climbed inside. The doors slammed shut.

Their grins stretching wider as they got closer.

“Do you retract your threat, or should I worry that you might attack me during the drive?” Loki hummed, quirking an eyebrow.

She smirked.

“For now,” she murmured in a low voice, finally close enough to feel the cold radiate off his face. She raised her gloved hand, and softly cupped his cheek, staining it with fluffy snowflakes. He shivered at the icy touch but it did nothing to wipe the grin off his face. “But don’t get any ideas,” she chuckled, patting his cheek and drawing away.

“What sort of ideas could I possibly get?” he asked with faux-innocence, earning himself a light thump on the shoulder. He snickered and turned to the wheel. “Remind me,” he said casually, starting the car and merging into holiday traffic, “How exactly did you convince me to go to that gaudy Christmas market, again?”

“By reminding you that if we go, we can probably finish all our festive shopping in one go,” she murmured, watching as the skies turned grey with a new series of clouds rolling in.

“While I am a friend of efficiency, if I recall correctly, that was only part of the deal,” he chuckled, shooting her a sly grin as he checked his mirrors.

She rolled her eyes.

“You’re really going to make me say it?”

“Why so shy, Sif? We’re alone.. for now, and if you hold up your end of the bargain, everyone will see anyway…” he snickered.

She sighed dramatically.

“You should know that I am seriously reconsidering all my life choices right now,” Sif shook her head, but couldn’t help but laugh softly at the absurdity of the situation. How had it come to the day where she’d let Loki make decisions about her party apparel? Mr Grinch himself in charge? Absolutely ridiculous.

“You can reconsider them all you like, but you’re definitely going to wear those antlers to Stark’s Christmas party.”

“All of this because he called you reindeer games a couple of times?”

“Not a couple! Every _single_ year. Just because I wore that reindeer jumper _once._ ”

“You do realise that he won’t stop calling you reindeer games if I show up with antlers, right? He’ll just double down on the reindeer jokes.”

“Oh, I know,” Loki preened. “But I think it might just be worth hearing him call you _Mrs_ Reindeer Games.”

Sif choked, spluttering.

“M-Mrs-?“

“What’s wrong, Sif?” he hummed, pursing his lips. “Are you going to break your word because you’re scared of a new nickname?”

She glared at him, wanting to polish that grin off his face, but hitting the driver was always a very, very bad idea.

_It's okay. Just wait till he’s out of the car…_

“I’m not scared of anything," she huffed, crossing her arms. "Let alone something as dumb as a nickname.”

“Well that’s interesting because I don’t believe you for a moment,” he purred.

“Careful, Loki. You might just end up with frostbite sooner than planned…”

He smirked.

“Fine, fine… I’ll drop it for now. But…”

“But…?”

He kept his eyes on the road, his lips twitching in response. _No, it's too soon_. He needed to know more first.

“But?” she repeated, her eyebrows drawing together.

“Oh, nothing,” he hummed. “Never mind.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good gift,” Sif grimaced, eyeing a plush goat Loki had picked up. “Children don’t want goats,” she pointed out, holding up a cream coloured teddy bear instead.

“Well clearly, you weren’t paying attention to Volstagg’s brood last week,” Loki smirked. “Astrid and the twins are infatuated with goats since I told them about the Gaevle goat.”

Sif narrowed her eyes, the bear trapped in the cage of her arms.

“Why don’t I remember this conversation?”

Loki grinned, picking up two more goats of different sizes and paying the old man working at the stall. “If I recall correctly, you were regaling the adults with the details of how you and Fandral caught the Mistletoe Maniac, while Hilde was grabbing more cookies.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, still eyeing him with distrust, but relenting as he pried the bear from her and paid for it as well. “Who’s the bear for?”

He took the bags from the old man and shrugged.

“Let’s just call it a back-up plan, in case you’re right.”

She gasped.

“Ha! So you admit you’re wrong!”

Loki turned his nose up, and walked past her, “I do no such thing, but there’s nothing wrong with a little insurance policy.”

“Oh no, Loki, you will not get away that easily. You’re wrong and I’m right.”

“That is not what just happened,” Loki demurred. He carried all their purchases in one hand and buried the other in his coat pocket while pointedly sticking his elbow out.

“It practically was,” she laughed. With practised ease, she slipped her arm through his and looked ahead.

Nose still in the air, Loki stole a glance at her. Though she wore a warm knitted hat, and a red, felt coat with a high collar, with just a hint of her turtleneck sticking out, her cheeks and nose had taken on a red shade. It was unseasonably cold today, but she still glowed with smugness. He fought a smile as a now-familiar warmth spread through his chest.

_Yes, soon… But will she even consider it?_

Loki cleared his throat.

“What’s next on the list?”

“Well, we’ve got some books for Hogun, the assortment of Christmas cookies for Volstagg, the mini-bottles of Christmas flavoured spirits for Fandral…”

“How about the Hanukkah gifts for Jane? If we include the four items we ordered, how many is that?”

“We got three more from that trinket stall… So, we just need one more.”

Loki looked around and frowned. It really was a sea of red and green at the market…They’d already exhausted the trinket stalls and toy stores. There was no chance that any of the food here would be kosher either…

Sif sucked in a sharp breath and pointed into the far corner.

“Clothes stall on the far left!”

He followed her gaze, and there it was, a small stall drowning in an assortment of knitted hats and scarves in all colours. Even pale white and blue.

“Perfect.” Loki grabbed hold of her hand as Sif led the way. 

They stall turned out to be more of a small cabin with a narrow door, with a vast variety of different materials hanging from the wooden walls. There was wool, silk, chiffon, tartan, organza, cashmere… If you could imagine a fabric, it was there.

Sif instinctively found her hand reaching out for a sturdy red knitted hat, with a large grey pom-pom on the back. She stroked the soft faux-fur and smiled. It was like the one she had as a little girl. Her mother, Sigrid, had made that one, during a particularly lean winter. Her father had just been let go from the security firm as the company had downsized, and her mother’s income as a school librarian had barely kept them afloat. There had been gifts though. The hat was one, and the other was Frigga. Like an angel, she’d swooped into their lives when the Odinson boys had pointed out their situation. She convinced Odin to hire her father, Tyr, at the Odinson corporation starting in the new year and invited her entire family to the Borson mansion for Christmas. It had been a miraculous day.

Her gaze drifted across the room, where Loki stood rubbing his chin, contemplating two silk scarves, while holding onto a third one with blue and white accenting. Pursing his lips, he caught her gaze and gestured for her to come over.

“Which one do you like?”

He pointed out a maroon and black one with delicate embroidery and a red and silver one with only a simple rectangular pattern, akin to the silhouette of a sword.

“I mean, I like the silver, but I don’t think Jane would like either… They’re not really her colours…”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Loki said, draping that one across his arm. “This one’s for Jane,” he said holding up the blue. “And that one’s for you.”

She jolted.

“Wait a minute, you don’t need to get me a scarf- We already put our presents under the tree- I don’t need more presents.”

“It’s not a present, then,” he said with a mischievous smile, which only made her hackles rise.

“Well, what is it then?” Sif demanded, grabbing the red scarf. She fought the instinct to stroke the material and, instead, held it up like she’d just found something dangerous.

His expression soured.

“Why does it matter? You could use a scarf, and I want to get you something nice.”

“I don’t want to be indebted,” she said automatically.

“Really, Sif? Are you serious?” He huffed in exasperation. “You know what, nevermind. You don’t want anything from me. Fine.” He walked off with the blue scarf clutched a little too tightly in his left hand. A young woman with a holly shaped pin on the front of her coat waited by the counter, absent-mindedly chewing her gum. She straightened slightly as he handed her the scarf, and scanned the code with a lazy shake. Loki’s mouth pinched. and he worried the seam of his left glove. _This is taking too long._ As soon as the transaction was over, he grabbed the scarf, ignoring the bill that floated to the ground, and strode out, not bothering to turn back.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sif demanded, catching up with him, having discarded the offending item at the shop.

“Why does it matter what I’m doing, it’s not like I’m _indebted_ to you,” he sneered, as he stuffed the scarf unceremoniously into the bag with the goats.

“Oh, come on, Loki, you’re acting like a child,” she scoffed.

“This is coming from the woman who is being fussy when her partner _of five years_ tries to keep her warm.”

“I’m not the one being fussy. You’re the one running off like a diva over a scarf of all things. You’re being completely unreasonable.”

“Am I?” he came to an abrupt halt, causing her to crash into him. She grabbed his shoulder for support.

“Yes, you are! I don’t want hand-outs. I can buy myself a scarf if I want to. I don’t need to owe you, money or otherwise-“

Loki jerked away like he’d been slapped. No, it was so much worse than a slap. His jaw worked for a moment, as his eyes smarted.

“After everything. After all the years I have been there for you, and you have _known_ me, I cannot believe that you think of me in those ridiculous terms,” he seethed, throat going dry. “I am not a stranger, or some animal trying to blackmail you into ugly favours by citing all the gifts I’ve given you.”

“I didn’t say that-”

“I have never cared whether my colleagues like me or whether my students loathe me, but I thought you knew me better than this.”

“What-“

He scoffed, turning aside, trying to hide the tears that stung.

“Clearly I’ve misjudged what I am to you,” he said, slipping an impassive mask back into place, though his eyes let out the pain like cracked porcelain. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find a gift for my mother, and it would be wise of you not to get in my way.”

He stalked off, leaving her frozen to the spot.

“What happened, brother?” Thor asked, finally locating Loki in the corner of one of the German-themed pubs.

Loki sat in a booth, staring at the untouched bratwurst in front of him. Instead, his icy fingers drummed unevenly on the lid of a little black jewellery box. His gaze drifted up towards Thor’s voice, but his eyes remained unfocused.

Thor slipped into the booth, taking a seat in front of Loki, his cheeks ruddy with the cold. He furrowed his brow.

“I thought you were going to wait to ask until we had all arrived,” Thor remarked, eyeing the box.

Loki said nothing, gazing unhappily at the box, turning it over in his hand repeatedly.

“Where’s Sif?” Thor tried.

Loki shrugged. Evidently, his hearing was perfectly fine after all.

“I see…” Thor frowned. He pulled out his phone and texted Jane. _Found Loki. Sif’s probably still at the market._

He set the phone down on the table and hummed.

“You’re the one that called us here early, Loki. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on… Last I heard you were going to propose under the giant Christmas tree in the square. Now you’re…” Thor looked uncertainly at the bratwurst. “Watching meat.”

Loki sighed. He ran his gloved hand through his hair and shook his head softly.

“Jane trusts you, does she not?” Loki muttered.

Thor’s eyebrows shot up. “Why- Yes, yes of course. Maybe not with her research equipment, but pretty much everything else.”

“You trust her too,” Loki stated. “You would never assume she has an ulterior motive.”

Thor chuckled. “Well, that depends on whether she’s trying to sweet-talk me into giving her the last pop-tart….”

Loki rolled his eyes.

“You know what I mean.”

Thor sat up, resting his arms on the table and leant forward a little.

“Actually, I don’t think I do, brother.”

Loki grimaced, and finally met Thor’s gaze. “Sif doesn’t trust me.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. She would trust you with her life.”

“No, Thor, she trusts _you_ with her life. You’re a doctor. She doesn’t even trust me to buy her a damn scarf without an ulterior motive.”

“A scarf?” Thor asked, glancing at the half a dozen bags sharing the booth with them.

“A scarf.”

Thor blinked.

“I see…”

“I thought we were past all of this by now,” Loki said, his voice barely above a whisper. “After all the years apart due to missed connections, after all the misunderstandings, after we finally made things work again…” His throat grew dry. The little box stopped revolving, and he carefully popped it open, gazing at the delicate band with a diamond surrounded by a thin band of rubies. His stomach clenched and he snapped the box shut.

“You’ve both come so far-“

“That’s what I thought too,” he exhaled, though the air didn’t seem to feel right in his lungs. The knot was tightening and yet it was radiating through him. “We’re even living together, for crying out loud! I have always loved her, brother- I- I thought she loved me too, but clearly she doesn’t even _trust_ me.” His hands started shaking. “Let alone want to marry me-“

Thor’s hand clamped down on Loki’s and held him still.

“You’re spiralling,” Thor said evenly, his doctor voice slipping into place, “Remember your grounding techniques.”

Quiet desperation clung to the set of his mouth, but he nodded infinitesimally. He’d always been an anxious child, though he had taken to hiding his fears behind masks of bravado over the years, it had spun out of control upon finding out about his adoption. There had been an intense falling out, as was to be expected, but with the genuine help and support of his mother, Thor, and even their friends, he had somehow managed to avoid a complete meltdown, though it still itched beneath his skin.

He took a few silent deep breaths, and shut his eyes, taking in the surroundings. The voices were far from quiet, in fact, the voices were boisterous and energetic as they prattled on about various things, ranging from the brilliance of the last rugby season to the escapades of drunk relatives of Christmas-past. People were joyful and people were laughing as their mugs of mulled wine clinked against one another and filled the air with the heady smell of mixed cloves, cinnamon and tannin. Even the now probably icy bratwurst still had a distinct scent. He looked down at it and exhaled slowly, the knots unravelling slightly.

“Better?” Thor asked.

“A little,” Loki sighed. Thor squeezed his hand and pulled away again, watching intently for any further shaking.

“I’m sure that whatever went wrong, Sif trusts you, and she loves you. So much,” Thor said. “But I understand if you want to call off the proposal plans. You can just postpone them, and it _will_ be fine. It’s not like she knows you were going to propose today.”

“Are you joking?” Sif said, having just thrown another dart at the board. “Because that’s really not funny, Jane.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Jane asked, her lips pressed into a thin line. She crossed her arms, but standing beside an assortment of giant plush animals which were nearly half Jane’s size, the usually fierce scientist looked far from imposing.

Sif grimaced.

“You can’t be serious. There is no way in Hel that Loki would propose,” she scoffed, throwing another dart, straight into the bullseye again. The wide-eyed shop-keeper gulped.

“Why is that so hard for you to imagine?” Jane asked, stealing the last dart from under her. “It’s not like he’s Mr Rochester and has a mad wife locked up in his attic. If anyone has someone secretly stashed up in a spare room, it’s Darcy with Fandral.”

Sif laughed, and tried to take the dart back, only to have Jane hold it behind her back, and arch an eyebrow.

“Fine,” Sif rolled her eyes, looking quite a bit like Loki as she did so. “I don’t really know why,” she admitted. “He’s so averse to labels since the adoption things came to light… and I suppose he’s never really mentioned an interest before-”

She froze, catching sight of a reindeer plush.

“Oh no…”

“What is it?” Jane asked, furrowing her brow. “Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

“It’s just… He did make comments. He did bring it up. Explicitly today, but also hints-“ Her mind rattled back to several incidents over the last few weeks. The time he pointed out she was a vision in white, the time they snuggled on the sofa and he whispered that it would be nice to stay like that forever, that time she walked in on him taking a keen interest in one of her rings… All the signs were there. “Oh gods, I’m such an idiot.”

Jane gently set the dart down on the counter. The shop-keeper held his breath, watching the two of them with heightening stress. He didn’t have a back-up grand prize. No one ever got three bullseyes.

“No, you’re not,” Jane said softly, and gently guided Sif away from the sharp object. “Life gets busy, thoughts and words slip through the cracks. Believe me, I know. I focus so much on my work, Thor ends up sending me messages around lunchtime to remind me to eat.”

Sif chuckled softly but shook her head.

“Are you sure he’s going to propose today?”

“Well… that was the plan, at least. That’s why Thor and I are here. The others are supposed to get here too, to all ‘coincidentally’ show up for the tree-lighting…”

Sif's eyes grew wide.

“He’s going to propose in front of everyon- Of course he would! That’s so very Loki, planning some elaborate and convoluted way of doing something simple. I swear he’s not as brilliantly conniving as he thinks he is-”

Jane chuckled.

“Or maybe he’s too good, and that’s why you didn’t pick up on his hints.”

“What- no, that’s not-“ Sif said growing crimson. “Argh!” She balled her hands into fists. “I really need to hit something right now,” Sif growled to herself.

Jane pursed her lips.

“I might have an idea.”

“Loki!” Fandral exclaimed, throwing his hand up in the air. “ We haven’t missed the big event yet, have we?”

Loki turned towards the voice, knocked out of his morose thoughts as he and Thor walked in silence towards the giant, unlit tree at the centre of the market. The tree was a monstrosity by all standards, at least 15 feet tall and several feet wide, with baubles as large as human skulls, and unlit lights the size of medium-sized candles. At the base, near a lebkuchen vendor, Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg huddled together with sizeable mugs of mulled wine, and a few spares.

The corner of his lips tugged down.

“Where is our splendid Lady Sif?” Volstagg boomed, laughing boisterously.

“Surely you mean, Loki’s splendid Lady,” Fandral said with a wink, earning a disapproving shake of Hogun’s head.

“It’s good to see you, friends,” Thor said, taking a mug from Hogun and thrusting it into Loki’s hands. “Sif is currently beating some moles with Jane, but they should be here soon enough.”

The warmth seeped through Loki’s hands even through his gloves. He held it close, covering every inch trying to capture the heat. He hadn’t quite realised how cold he was. Oh and the _smell._ Like cinnamon and spices... But…

“I can’t drink this,” he sighed. “I’m driving.” He looked at the mug hesitantly, loathed to be parted from the warmth, but gave it back to Thor.

“Oh… Maybe Sif can-“

“We don’t know if she’s had a drink yet,” Hogun pointed out.

“I could drive you two home,” Fandral offered. “But I’m not sure being the chauffeur to two newly engaged lovebirds is the best idea,” he snickered. “Not sure my backseat could handle the excitement.”

“I’m sure your backseat has seen wildly more scandalous things from you, dear Fandral,” Volstagg guffawed, slapping his back.

Fandral laughed.

“Too true, my friend. Too true…”

Catching Loki’s pained expression, Thor cleared his throat.

“Friends, maybe it is best if Jane and I drive them home. We do live in the same direction, and if you give me your key, one of us can drop off your car.”

“That’s a splendid idea!” Fandral exclaimed, pushing another mug of mulled wine into Loki’s hands.

“You’re sure?” Loki asked hesitantly. Thor nodded.

“Hand me those keys, brother.”

Loki dug into his pocket and handed them over, keys jingling in the process.

“Now that all of that’s sorted, time to get some of that liquid courage,” Fandral announced, patting Loki’s back. Loki sighed contently, as the drink warmed him. There was a comfort in it which he couldn’t quite describe. Like when he helped his mother bake on Christmas eve. Only good memories.

“About that proposal-“ Loki began, but the words got lost as he saw Sif and Jane approach. Jane clutched a giant reindeer plush, as they talked with animation. Jane mimed a whacking motion, making Sif burst into laughter.

“Here comes the bride,” Fandral whispered in a sing-song voice, only for Hogun to elbow him in the ribs. “What? I’m not wrong!”

Hogun shot him a sharp look.

“Pay attention,” Hogun whispered, “All is not as it seems.” He looked back and forth between Loki and Sif, who had finally caught each other’s gazes. Sif slowed a little, trying hard to smile, though the corners of her mouth kept faltering.

“Sif,” Thor interjected, crossing the distance towards the women. He slung his arm around Sif’s shoulder’s and another around Jane’s waist, pressing a kiss to Jane’s hair. “Jane tells me you have been slaying a couple of beasts tonight.”

Sif shot Jane a look, “I thought you were checking your emails.”

Jane shrugged.

“Emails and texts.”

“A woman of many depths,” Thor chuckled, letting go of Sif with a pat on her back as they reached the rest of the group.

Thor and Jane pushed past a little, forming a little circle that excluded Loki and Sif.

Loki worked his jaw and did not quite meet her eyes. “Did you have a good time with Jane?”

“I-“ She took a deep breath, trying to build up some courage, but for once in her life, found her courage lost in the ether. She deflated. “Yes. Yes, I did. The person at the whack-a-mole stall looked a little scared though,” she chuckled softly.

“That sounds right. You are a formidable opponent. The moles did not know what hit them,” he said softly, the mug steaming away in his hands. “I would certainly never underestimate you.”

She looked away, observing her shoes with great interest.

“Loki, listen... I didn-“

“Please, Sif. Let’s not get into it again. I just… We both said things which weren’t great and… I just want to forget it all, and have a nice evening.” He tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach his tired eyes. He held out his mug to her. “Have you tried any of the mulled wine? It’s quite a nice blend. Not as good as your father’s, but still quite… nice.”

 _Oh Loki…_ She wanted to say so many things. To tell him that of course, nothing was as good as her father’s blend, that Loki was the most infuriating, most loving man alive, and that she was so very very sorry for all the hurt they’d caused each other. Instead, she held her tongue, carefully took the mug from him, and whispered ‘Thank you’ as she took a sip, not taking her eyes off of him.

“Mmm, you’re right… It’s better than the usual stuff. I wonder what changed…” She took a long swig and sighed once the mug was empty.

“Perhaps they’ve added a secret ingredient to it.”

“Is that right?” she smirked. “And what might that be?”

“Well, if history is to be any indication, I would say, ‘Love’ is the go-to answer.”

Sif snorted.

“My thoughts exactly,” he chuckled, inching closer until he could feel the warmth radiating from the empty mug, or perhaps it was Sif’s warmth. Either way, it was wonderful. “But maybe, it might really work,” he said so softly, that it was barely a whisper. “It’s… certainly made my boring life better.”

“Oh, Loki…” She gently cupped his cheek, only to earn a soft kiss to the inside of her gloved palm.

“I love you,” he said softly, leaning into her touch.

“I love you too,” she whispered back. Heavy bags thudded against her legs, as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Ouch,” she laughed. “What have you and Thor been buying all this time?”

“Just a couple things,” he hummed, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

“More goats?” she asked with a straight face.

“Absolutely.”

“At this rate, we can build a display with twelve goats pulling Santa’s sleigh,” she snickered.

“We can complete it by luring Father onto the sleigh. I’m sure mother could make it work, red suit included.”

“That sounds little a brilliant plan,” Sif laughed. “What could possibly go wrong?”

“Just about everything,” he promised with a toothy grin.

“Just the way I like my battle plans,” she said, mirroring his expression. She tilted her head up, leaning just a little closer. Only a couple more inches-

Her vision went white.

It was almost like a star had appeared in the middle of the street, turning darkness into light. The bright lights gleamed, warm white, towering over the entire square. The baubles, once threatening and large, seemed charming and festive and they shone with reflected splendour, their red and gold poured out upon the excited crowds of spectators.

“Sif?” Loki’s voice cut through the moment. His eyes glittered emerald, so close. The colour of moss, of jealousy, of renewal and luck… Of a future full of exciting unknowns. The grass is always greener on the other side, but this grass was so beautiful and lush, and perfect, there was no need to ever go to the other side.

“I want to marry you,” she blurted out with the ferocity she usually saves for work.

“W-what?” Loki sucked in a sharp breath, pulling infinitesimal further away, but she held onto him, the hand with the mug clawing at his lapels, while the other pulled his face closer.

“I want you by my side, Loki. I want to be by my- by _your_ side. I want this. Just us standing together in the freezing cold, laughing and joking.”

“Do you really mean it?” he asked, searching her face for any sign of uncertainty. For a sign of a lie, of fear, of doubt, but it wasn’t there. It didn’t exist.

“I’m so sorry about earlier. It was a stupid thing to say. There is no being ‘indebted’ when we share everything anyway-“

“No, Sif. You don’t have to apologise. I overreacted. Of course, you value your independence. You got this far on your own, and I understand that you don’t want to lose that-“

“I won’t. I won’t lose anything-“

“I promise I won’t buy you gifts you don’t want-“

“It’s not that I didn’t-“

“You just looked so cold-“

“I was co–“

“I was being a baby-“

“No, you weren’t-“

“I love you-“ they both said in unison.

They burst into a startled laugh, and as her hand slipped down to his neck, their foreheads pressed gently against each other.

“I want to marry you, Sif Tyrsdottir. I want you to be mine. I want to be yours.“

“You’re in luck. I want all of that too,” she whispered back, her breath ghosting over his lips.

He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, and dropped down to one knee, placing the mug on the ground and grasping her left hand. His coat swept around him like a pool of pure liquid black. He pulled out the jewellery box from his pocket and snapped it open with a soft pop.

“Can we make it official then? Will you, Sif Tyrsdottir, give me the greatest gift of all?” His eyes smarted with tears, but he made no move to stop them falling down his cheeks. “Will you do me the honour of becoming Mrs Reindeer Games?”

She threw her head back in startled laughter and pulled him back to his feet.

“Obviously,” she laughed, “I proposed to you first.”

He snickered and pried the ring out of the box, holding it up between them.

“Is that a ‘yes’, then?”

She gave him a knowing smile, and held her hand out, letting him slip the ring snuggly onto her ring finger.

“What do you think?” she hummed, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“It sounds like a solid ‘maybe’,” he murmured.

“Oh, that’s good. That’s what I was going for,” she grinned wolfishly and sealed it with a kiss.


	2. Mid-credits scene: Where in the world was Darcy Lewis?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After all the excitement of the Sifki proposal, Fandral visits Darcy to tell her the good news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a credits scene I promised everyone who missed Darcy during the main piece.

The doorbell rang.

Darcy squinted at the wall clock, looking up from the sofa, where she’d snuggled up under a blanket. She sniffed, groaning as she got up, taking the blanket with her. It was bad enough being ill and stuck at home while everyone was out at the Christmas market, but having an unannounced visitor was even worse.

“Whoever you are, unless you’ve got chocolate, you’re not welcome,” Darcy called out, as she fumbled with the door.

Stupid old locks. They never behaved.

“I don’t have chocolate, but I might have something better,” Fandral said, as the door swung open. He stood on her doorstep, eyes twinkling, as he fanned himself with-

“Is that money?” Darcy gasped.

“You bet it is,” Fandral grinned, waving the wad of notes at her.

“What happened? Did you pick up a part-time job as a stripper, or did you rob a bank?” Darcy asked, gaping at the wad.

“I didn’t rob a bank,” he laughed, stroking his moustache as he walked in. He kept his eyes on her, walking backwards through the hallway. “But now that you mention it, I would make a damn fine stripper,” he winked.

“Fan,” she whined, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders, finding her way back to the sofa. He bounced around her, like an excited puppy for a moment, before he threw his hat and scarf across the room, onto the grey ottoman with perfect aim. He lept onto the couch beside her and held out the money to her, laughing.

“Believe it or not,” Fandral grinned from ear to ear, “This is _our_ money.”

“Our money? What do you mean _ou_ -“ Darcy gasped. “You mean-?”

Fandral pressed his lips together but couldn’t stop from smiling like an idiot.

“Sif proposed?” Darcy gasped, grabbing his shoulders. The blanket slipped off her shoulders, but she could not care less.

“She did indeed,” Fandral nodded slowly, tilting his head as if deep in thought, only to grin exuberantly.

“Oh my God, I won the bet! I won the bet!” Darcy screamed. Everyone had thought that Loki would do it at some point, after drinking different quantities of alcohol, or after some fancy gestures, but not Darcy. If there was one thing in life Darcy was sure of, it was that between Sif and Loki, Sif would be the one grabbing the bull by its horns, even if this particular bull already had plans in motion.

 _Oh boy_ , she was going to rub this under Jane and Thor’s nose. Seriously, to think Jane bet on Loki giving a lengthy speech (specifically, over four minutes), and Thor bet on Loki downing at least three glasses of wine…

_Ha! Their money is mine now-_

“Ahem,” Fandral cleared his throat, chuckling like he knew exactly what she was thinking. “I feel like I should clarify. _We_ won the bet.”

Darcy blinked.

“Wait, wait, wait. They _both_ proposed?” Darcy gasped.

Fandral smirked, “Turns out one proposal wasn’t enough for them. Loki went full-out, down on one knee under the tree for like a minute, under the influence of _less than one_ mug of mulled wine.”

“Sonofa-“

Darcy laughed.

“So, dearest Darcy, it looks like you will have to share your spoils with me,” Fandral said, handing her the money and gently wrapping the blanket around her shoulders again.

She looked down at the wad, and up at him again, and grinned.

“I think I can work with that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you had a fun time on the Sifki express. I did warn you that this was a fluff piece.  
> If you have a minute to spare, please drop a comment! I love hearing from everyone!


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